


Oh Deer

by orphan_account



Series: Wish We Could Turn Back Time [2]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Animal Death, Drunk Geoff, crying geoff, i mean how could i resist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 21:35:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5981671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Geoff can't stop killing animals with his car.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh Deer

**Author's Note:**

> No animals were harmed in the writing of this fic.

The first time it happens, Gus is snuggled up under the covers, exhaustion tugging him down further and further into slumber’s sweet welcoming embrace. His voice is absolutely shot after having endured four hours straight of running lines because the god damn audio tracks kept getting corrupted.

They didn’t even manage to make it past midnight before Burnie was at his wits end, Geoff was itching to get on the road knowing damn well he was facing a least a 45-minute drive, and Joel was threatening to quit and go fuck off back to LA. Hullum, as per usual, stepped in just in a nick of time to ward off the inevitable Burnie-Joel fist fight that was bubbling up to the surface of the room. They decided that Jason and Gus would drive back over to Burns’ at a reasonable hour to catch up on the loss time, while Geoff would work on some shipping problems from his house. And with an air of utter defeat encasing them all, the five men parted ways discontented and utterly drained.

So it’s safe to say that Gus is in nowhere near the mood to handle a Grade A Ramsey crisis.

He’s just on the cusp of sleep when that god forsaken landline starts ringing, and Gus knows, he just knows, that it has to be Geoff. He rolls over, sandwiching his head between the pillow in an attempt to block out the attack on his eardrums. He figures that whatever the problem is can be dealt with in approximately four and a half hours when the sun is shining and Gus’ eyes don’t burn so much. But then he remembers that Geoff’s on the road, and that there’s a slim possibility that something could actually be wrong.

He hoists himself out of bed and snatches the phone off the receiver just in time to catch a shuddering breath on the other line.

“What happened?” He asks pointedly, his stomach dropping at the sound of his friend’s distress.

“I-I-I-I didn’t,” Geoff’s voice cracks, “I d-don’t even know how that fuckin-ing happened,”

“Geoff.” Gus says, panic quickly closing around his throat as images of a bloodied and shaken Geoff left helpless on the side of some abandoned road assault his mind, “What. Happened.”

Geoff takes a deep long breath, pausing for what feels like an hour before mumbling something about beer.

“You’re drunk?” Gus shrieks into the receiver, “Jesus, Geoff I knew you were dumb but _shit_ you really are a fucking idiot!” Gus gets halfway through his rant before Geoff is able to croak out a sob.

“Deer not beer,” He sniffles into the phone, and suddenly Gus is at a loss for words. He remains silent until Geoff continues his snotty confession. “I’m not drunk, Gus, I promise. I hit a deer,”

“Are you hurt?”

“No,” Geoff holds the ‘o’ for a least four seconds before continuing, “But I’m going to Hell”

“Why? People hit deer all the time,” Gus states immediately, utterly baffled by the turn of events.

“Because I’m a _murderer_ ,” And then he’s back to crying, snuffling out something along the lines of a prayer for forgiveness. Gus peers over his shoulder, and though he doesn’t have his glasses on, he’s pretty damn sure that the clock is blinking out four-thirty-something, meaning that his Geoff crisis tolerance has officially hit its max.

“What the fuck did you do?” Gus shouts into the receiver, cutting off the other man’s whimpers. Geoff takes yet another shuddering breath before informing Gus of his evil deeds.

When it’s all over and done with, Geoff is sobbing even harder than before and yet Gus isn’t sure if he wants to laugh or puke. The motherfucker not only managed to hit one deer, and turn around with the intent of a mercy kill, but also he managed to hit a second fucking deer. In one night.

“Jesus,” Gus whispers into the phone but is drowned out by Geoff’s weeping.

If Gus was a better person, he’d stay on the line with his distressed friend, and perhaps even offer to drive out to wherever the fuck Geoff managed to land himself and offer him a ride home. If Gus was a halfway decent human being, he’d call a taxi or maybe animal control so they could handle the situation. Gus is honestly on the verge of breaking out the car keys when he notices the clock blinking five-oh-something, and then immediately decides that fuck that shit. Griffon can handle it.

***

The second time it happens, Gus can’t keep himself from laughing as Geoff blubbers on about a forced-deer-suicide. Burnie looks at him like he’s fucking insane- like Burnie’s one to talk- as Gus nearly drops the phone in an attempt to not piss himself on the spot.

“It’s not fucking f-funny!” Geoff cries, “I’m a monster, an actual cold-blooded monster!”

“Well that’s what you get for ditching us mid-season,” Gus smirks into the phone as Geoff sputters.

“It’s not my fucking fault that Griffon has family. What was I supposed to do? Tell her Great Aunt Peggy to go suck a cock? That motherfucker has a beach house and like two years tops to live,” Geoff says, teeth chattering the whole way through.

“Yeah, yeah” Gus rolls his eyes, “Whatever you say you fucking savage. Go on and get back on the road before it gets too dark and you kill a person or something.  And don’t break your neck snowboarding, you’re semi-useful,”

Geoff mumbles about the look in the poor thing’s eyes before hanging up with a final “fuck you”. Gus hangs up the phone, and returns to his chair, wheeling it over to the television.

“So what was that all about?” Burnie asks, eyes locked on the screen before him, hands wrapped around the controller with a vice-like grip.

“Deer Destroyer Strikes Again,” Gus says simply as he reaches forward to grab a controller.

“Did he go back to finish the job?” Burnie asks, grunting as his character respawns.

“It wasn’t necessary this time,”

“Took it out in one go?” Burnie’s voice sounded utterly delighted, which was, you know, kind of concerning in some respects.

“Nope,” Gus popped the ‘p’ before continuing, “the deer apparently started flopping down the road, and he skidded out of control and caught up to the piece of shit, and somehow they ended up crossing a bridge and the deer kinda just looked back at Geoff before jumping to its assumed death.” He gets it out in one breath, and the room is suddenly silent for a beat before Burnie erupts.

Gus finds himself in tears as Burnie howls with laughter, controllers long forgotten, as they clutch their stomachs. Any hope of getting work down is quickly sabotaged by Burnie’s efforts to find the perfect meme to email Geoff.

They spend hours searching the web, and eventually settle for making their own Scumbag Steve jpeg.

***

The third time it happens is actually the first time it happens. Geoff is, _shockingly_ , shitfaced at 2pm on a Sunday, and is talking Gus’ ear off by the side of Matt’s pool. Burnie cannon balls into the tranquil water, spurring a wave large enough to splash give or take 1/5 of the pool’s contents onto the surrounding grass. The resulting screaming match between Matt and King Fatso is almost loud enough to distract Geoff from his _riveting_ story about the struggles of owning a dog.

Gus stands up and gets a beer from Matt’s shitty little cooler by the shed, and snorts when he returns to find Geoff talking animatedly to a stray tabby cat that somehow ended up in Gus’ seat.

“Nooooo” Geoff slurs “Listen here. I’m a baaaaaaaad man. I’ve killed your kind bef-before”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Burnie calls from the edge of the pool.

“Yeah I thought deer was your specialty?” Matt adds on, as he slurps from his bottle.

“No no” Geoff hiccups “Beforeeee all that” Geoff waves his hand sluggishly in an attempt to convey something none of the others quite understand.

“I was driving, like a looooooong time ago” Geoff’s face grows dark as he continues to twirl his finger around the cat’s tail, “and I hit this cute little kitty cat! But when I looked back, it was all broke and crunched and shit so I-I haaaad to go back and kill em,”

“Oh here we go,” Matt muttered as sure enough, Geoff started to cry.

“But when I looked back I cou-couldn’t see the cat so I p-pulled over and looked at the tire and” Geoff’s frown looked like it belonged in a motherfucking Doctor Seuss book.

“And?” Burnie promptly, his voice laced with dread.

“It was stuck” Geoff wept, but continued on to the others’ horror, “so I drove and I drove b-but it wouldn’t fall out! So I went to a… a… what are those things called with the big sponges?” He trailed off as the cat scurried off the chair.

“A car wash?” Matt prompted.

“Oh yeah! That and so I went to a ca-“

“Wait hold up” Burnie stopped him, “How the fuck did you get car wash from big sponges?”

“-rwash and got one of those big ass powerwashers-“

“Because where else would he fucking go with the fractured skull of a cat lodged in his tire?” Matt retorted.

“and hosed the car down until the cat was all gone” Geoff concluded his Death Tale with a belch so loud it made Gus’ own stomach lurch in sympathy. The sober (read: slightly less drunk) three were stunned by the nightmarish tale. Gus grimaced as Matt suddenly chugged the remnants of his beer. The silence was only broken by Burnie’s whisper of:

“Remind me to never let you petsit Joe the Cat”

END

**Author's Note:**

> All of this is taken from Off Topic #8 fyi. Come cry with me at haganandherman.tumblr.com


End file.
